


Sibling Rivalry

by Lycaste



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Family, Body Horror, Crack, Dark Humor, Dysfunctional Family, OCs Dying Horribly, Other, Psychological Warfare, Torture, Violence, so much crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-10
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 04:20:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lycaste/pseuds/Lycaste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck on a Decepticon warship with the rest of the Warriors Elite, Overlord vies for Megatron's attentions. Can he defeat his brother Tarn in a contest of skill, or will he be known forever as second best?</p>
<p>AU where Overlord, Tarn, Black Shadow, and Sixshot are all Megatron's creations who hate each other. A murderously mechanical dysfunctional family. The idea came from this hilarious picture that I highly recommend: <a href="http://volverseloco.deviantart.com/art/Damn-Children-369115338">Damn Children</a> on DA by VolverseLoco.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Assumes Overlord, Tarn, Sixshot, and Black Shadow are all brothers and Megatron's (mechanical) children. Set after Overlord became a member of the Warriors Elite, but before that fateful teleconference between him and Megatron that left him so disgruntled. Some in jokes to the IDW verse, but you don't need to be that familiar with it.
> 
> This is supposed to be just fun crack, but it IS Overlord we're talking about here. So, fair warning, lots of torture and robot gore. Also a passing mention to rape. 
> 
> Dedicated to VolverseLoco for making the picture [Damn Children](http://volverseloco.deviantart.com/art/Damn-Children-369115338) that inspired this fic. Hopefully, VolverseLoco, you're not too horrified by that. ;)

_Millions of Years Ago….._

 

Overlord sat in the back of the cramped Decepticon shuttle, mulling over the question he wanted to ask ever since Megatron picked him up three hours ago. It wasn't so easy. He'd have to ask just right, confident enough to show interest, but bored enough to not seem desperate. He pursed his lips, intent on detecting the right opportunity. Any second now...

"Overlord!"

The sound of Megatron's irritated voice jolted Overlord from his musings. The Decepticon leader wanted an answer to something, so Overlord took his time before raising his head and saying, "Hmm?"

"I asked if you put your seatbelt on."

Overlord frowned. As if Megatron couldn't just turn around and look for himself. "Yes."

Their optics met in the rearview mirror of the tiny shuttle. "What was that?" Megatron asked, his tone low. He looked like he wanted to murder an entire fleet of Autobots, so a fairly good mood.

Yet Overlord knew when not to push it. It was a statistical fact that Megatron was more likely to fire the fusion cannon on long shuttle rides than any other time, even in battle. "Yes, _Lord_ Megatron."

"That's what I thought."

"Are we there yet?"

"For the millionth time, no. We have to pick up your brother first. Now be quiet." Megatron turned his attention back to Shockwave. "You were saying?"

"The prisoners will arrive tomorrow, Lord Megatron," said Shockwave. "We captured the six Autobots during a raid on…"

Overlord sat back in his seat and let his mind wander again, thinking of the trouble he could cause when they reached their destination. Megatron made it clear that he wanted the Warriors Elite to start spending time between missions aboard his new favorite warship, the _Despotic Reign_. He called it "debriefing", but Overlord suspected it was more like "leaving you less time to roam around the galaxy and plot my demise". 

They arrived at the docking station to pick up their last passenger. The shuttle made an uncomfortable screech when Megatron rode the brakes us usual.

"Listen, Overlord," Megatron said. "I don't want you antagonizing your brother on this trip."

"He antagonizes me first."

"I've put a lot of resources into developing both of you. If one of you breaks the other one, it's going to cost the Decepticons a lot of time and energy. Also, if I have to listen to your endless bickering I'll rip out your spark and crush it with my bare hands."

"He always starts it."

The shuttle door whooshed open to admit their passenger. He bowed deeply to their leader. "Lord Megatron, it's an honor to see you again." He then inclined his head towards Shockwave. "And you, Shockwave. To be in the presence of such greatness brings glory to any Decepticon."

"Suck up," said Overlord. 

The new mech turned towards Overlord and sat down. "Overlord," he acknowledged, voice dripping with resentment.

Overlord put every ounce of barely contained malice and spite into his response until the name reeked with disgust. "Tarn."

"I see you're still enormous," said Tarn. "There's no room back here."

Megatron started the shuttle again, ignoring both of them as he continued to speak to Shockwave. "Tell Soundwave to put the Autobot prisoners in different cells as soon as they arrive. I have a feeling that someone in this group knows something."

"Agreed," said Shockwave, and began sharing more information about the failed Autobot mission.

Tarn, for a change, didn't hang on his leader's every word. Instead he fidgeted and whacked Overlord on the arm. "Stop it."

"Stop what?"

"Seriously, stop it."

Overlord glared at him. "Tarn, I'm not doing anything. I am literally just sitting here."

"Don't make those lips at me."

"What? That's my normal face, you piece of trash."

"Megatron," whined Tarn. "He's teasing me."

Megatron held up a finger. "Hold that thought, Shockwave." He whirled around in his seat, optics blazing their most dangerous red. "Both of you: **SHUT UP!** "

The Brothers Elite scowled and fell silent.

Megatron watched them for a few seconds, rage palpable. When his creations remained quiet he turned back to his passenger. "You were saying?"

"Get fragged," whispered Overlord, when Megatron was lost in the conversation again.

"You get fragged," Tarn whispered back.

The rest of the trip passed in bored silence, broken occasionally by Tarn shoving at Overlord or bumping their shoulders together. When they finally reached the _Despotic Reign_ , the thought of getting a fusion cannon to face was the only thing preventing Overlord from trying to beat the living slag out of his brother.

"We're here," said Megatron. And then he muttered, "Thank Primus."

"Wow," said Tarn. He looked out the window at the ship. "There are a lot of shuttles docked here. Do we have a full house, Lord Megatron?"

"Yes, Tarn. And speaking of that, there's something I need to discuss with you two." Megatron turned to face them. He wore an expression so hesitant, he looked like a mech who was about to talk to his sparklings about interfacing for the first time. 

_Oh frag_ , thought Overlord. _I am going to hate this._

"The ship is filled to capacity with all the officers and troops here between campaigns. Even Sixshot and Black Shadow are in attendance."

"Great," Overlord muttered. "Those idiots."

"Black Shadow is a bad Decepticon," said Tarn.

Megatron held up a hand. "Shut up. What I'm trying to say is that there are no free berths on the ship. Everyone is doubling or tripling up. That means, in the interest of the Decepticon cause, you two will be sharing a room together."

Despite all the pain and horror he had brought to others, Overlord could think of no punishment more ghastly and wicked than sharing a room with Tarn. A mech who made note of anything suspicious that you did, and liked to compose poetry about Megatron. Out loud. To music. At 3 AM.

Inside, Overlord was screaming. "No, no….." 

"Don't be so melodramatic," said Megatron.

Tarn wrung his hands, apparently not fond of the idea either. "Lord Megatron, is that absolutely necessary? I mean, I'd be happy to room with anybody else. Soundwave or Shockwave or…or even Starscream."

"Soundwave and Shockwave are rooming together and Starscream is, ahem.." Megatron shifted his gaze. "Starscream is rooming with me. We're all making sacrifices, Tarn. This is for the Decepticons."

"Oh yes, my Lord." Tarn nodded his head rapidly. "I understand. For the Decepticons."

They exited the shuttle and prepared to go their separate ways into the ship. Overlord hesitated. There was still something he wanted to ask Megatron, but he didn't want to do it in front of his brother. Yet he knew if he didn't ask now, he might not get another chance for days.

"Megatron, do you think, maybe, we could spar later?"

"Not today, Overlord. I have a....thing later." 

Overlord watched Megatron's broad back as he strode off, trying to process what he was feeling.

"Way to go, loser. Told you he likes me best," said Tarn. "By the way, I call top bunk."

"I don't think so, Tarn. I'm recharging on the top bunk."

"Too late. I called it. Shockwave?"

Shockwave swept his single optic up and down their frames. "With your superior size, the bottom bunk is the logical place for you, Overlord. Also, Tarn called it."

Overlord balled his hands into fists. This was going to be a long trip.

 

Sharing a room with Tarn was more painful than attending an Autobot coronation ceremony. Not that Overlord knew what an Autobot coronation ceremony was really like, but it couldn't be worse than listening to recordings of Megatron's old essays being played over and over and over again.

And the singing. Tarn did have a nice singing vocalizer, but he used it to belt out renditions of _Towards Peace_ to music. After the seventy-third time of hearing his brother warble "My weapon is my burden: a reminder of the path I was forced to take", Overlord was ready to tear out Tarn's main energon line.

The room already looked like it belonged to the most pathetic of fanboys. There were datapads with Shockwave's reports on every surface. On the walls hung ornate guns covered with the Decepticon symbol. Tarn had even hung up a picture of Megatron, right at the perfect angle so it could stare down at Overlord disapprovingly during recharge.

Thinking about Megatron's rejection that afternoon made his fuel pump spin. Was a simple sparring match too much to ask for? All Overlord wanted was to pummel their leader into a steaming pile of broken parts and then rip out his....

His thoughts stalled, thoughts unraveling into a jumble of nonsense. It was so strange. Every time he started thinking about defeating Megatron, his mind went blank and the ideas scattered. Almost like something was actively preventing him from contemplating it. He suspected that the Warriors Elite process involved more than just ununtrium bonding. Yet until he could figure out how to undo whatever block they put in his mind, he was stuck. Stuck staring at a picture of Megatron that made him left him feeling under appreciated and overcharged. 

Tarn's voice filtered down from the top bunk. "Will you stop ventilating so loudly? I'm trying to recharge." 

"Seriously?" said Overlord. "I've been listening to your stupid tire shoulders squeak for the last two hours and you're telling _me_ to be quiet?"

"Look, Overlord. Megatron wants us to share a room so let's just try to make him happy, okay?"

"I still can't believe I have to room with you."

"I still can't believe that Lord Megatron chose to room with Starscream over Shockwave," said Tarn. "I mean, I know that Starscream is second in command, but he's so...."

"Annoying?" Overlord finished for him. 

"Well....yeah."

None of the Warriors Elite liked Starscream, even Tarn. The Seeker came across as a whiny traitor who loved giving them ridiculous orders, just because he could. Yet it struck Overlord as endlessly amusing that Tarn refused to see the truth behind Megatron and Starscream's interactions.

"You know they're fragging, right?"

"What?!?"

"Megatron's been giving it to Starscream for eons. Everybody knows it."

"Oh please, Overlord. You're such a pervert. Lord Megatron has better taste than that."

"It's so much more complicated than just a matter of taste. You'd understand that if you weren't such a simpleton."

"Whatever," said Tarn. "You're the most uncultured Decepticon I know. I'll bet you're not familiar with the classic operetta, _Victory of Vos_." With that, Tarn launched into another song detailing the successes of their glorious army. 

Overlord tried to shut down the input on his audio receivers. He couldn't take another night of this, let alone a few more weeks. In that moment he made himself a promise. Whatever happened, he had to get a different roommate.

 

 

The next morning, Overlord made his way to one of Megatron's staff meetings. Another boring block up time devoted to empty words instead of action. He'd attended these things in the past and they all ended the same, with Megatron and Starscream arguing and everyone else just kissing aft.

Megatron growled when Overlord entered the room. "You're late." 

"Apologies, Megatron. Some of us didn't get much recharge last night." 

"We're just starting. Sit." Megatron gestured to the one empty seat. 

Overlord sat and grinned cheerily at the bot next to him. It was Blitzwing, who tried to move away without looking like he was doing it. Unfortunately for Blitzwing, Tarn was on his other side, leaving him no option but to shrink down and try to seem invisible.

The rest of the Decepticons also actively avoided making eye contact with Overlord. Except for his two older brothers. Sixshot, that maudlin sap, nodded to him while Black Shadow, the hack wannabe, just grunted. 

The meeting covered the usual topics such as universal domination, crushing the Autobots, and the importance not getting energon all over the walls if a fight broke out. With the exception of a few snarky comments from Starscream, the whole thing proceeded relatively fight free.

Until Megatron came to last issue. "As many of you have heard, we recently captured six Autobots. Shockwave?"

"We believe these prisoners are of higher rank than they appear," said Shockwave. "Intelligence revealed they work at Kimia, an Autobot center for research and weapons development. They may have valuable information relating to top secret enemy projects."

Megatron nodded. "We'll need someone to interrogate the prisoners and-"

"Oh, pick me," Tarn interrupted, raising his hand. "Pick me, pick me, Lord Megatron. I want to interrogate the prisoners."

"Quiet, Tarn. I wasn't done."

"Please, Lord Megatron? I wanna torture 'em. I'm the best at it."

Overlord scoffed. "You? The best torturer? That's a laugh."

"Shut up. I'm better than you."

"I suppose hearing you talk is a special brand of torture unto itself."

Tarn crossed his arms over his chassis and looked about as disgusted as his symbol face would allow. "Oh, listen to you. You're a one trick turbofox with all your rape."

A tangible wave of discomfort swept through most of the room. Despite their ferocious reputation, rape was something many Decepticons didn't approve of, and the thought of Overlord doing it clearly disturbed them.

Sixshot shook his head. "Rape is a dishonorable way to vanquish an enemy."

"What's wrong with rape?" asked Black Shadow. 

Overlord spread his hands on the table and laughed. "It's just a tool, my dear brother. One of the many I employ. Any amateur can crush a spark, but it takes an artist to crush a mind. I don't need to force someone in that way to be a better torturer than you."

"No way," cried Tarn. "I'm the better torturer. Lord Megatron, aren't I better?"

Megatron folded his hands with a thoughtful expression and said nothing. 

Starscream leaned in towards their leader. "Megatron," he whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear. "This could get interesting."

"I pose the question to the group," said Overlord. "Decepticons, who is the better torturer? Myself....or Tarn?"

There was a chorus of mumbles and whimpers and "you're both good". Many bots found something interesting to look at on the floor while others fidgeted with their hands. Skywarp looked like he might cry. No one wanted to risk the ire of one of Megatron's offspring by answering. 

"Why don't we find out?" asked Megatron. "There are six prisoners. I'll give you each three of them. Let's see who's the better torturer."

Overlord frowned. He hated being manipulated by Megatron, but no way was he going to back down from a challenge against Tarn. Besides, a little torture might really liven up this boring trip.

"What are the rules of this contest, Lord Megatron?" asked Shockwave.

"Anything goes," said Megatron. "There are just three rules. First, you can't watch the other person work. Second," he pointed to Tarn, "no using your modulated vocal processor."

"Awww," said Tarn.

"Third," Megatron pointed to Overlord. "No rape."

Overlord shrugged. "Whatever. Don't need it."

"Beyond that, you have three cycles to do whatever you want," said Megatron. "I will judge the winner on depth of suffering inflicted and quality of information obtained."

Black Shadow slapped his hand on the table. "I have five hundred Shanix on Tarn."

"What?!" roared Overlord. "Get slagged, Black Shadow." He whacked Sixshot on the arm. "Well?"

"Well what?" said Sixshot. "I'm not getting involved in this."

Overlord looked at the rest of the room. "Anyone?"

"I, um, don't have that kind of cash," said Thundercracker, trying to look relaxed and failing.

"Yeah, sorry Big O," said Swindle. "I'm so broke right now. I believe in ya though."

Astrotrain muttered something about having other debts. Even Soundwave made some weak excuse.

Megatron laughed. "Too bad, Black Shadow. Looks like no one wants to-"

A shrill voice interrupted him. "I'll take that bet. Five hundred Shanix on Overlord. You're on."

All heads in the room swiveled towards Starscream. He sat back in his chair with a smirk on his face.

Megatron clapped his hands together. "Very well! You may begin tomorrow. Do not disappoint me. Dismissed."

Overlord went for the door. Finally, some entertainment. This would take his mind off of the horrors of living with Tarn.

His brother put a hand on his shoulder. "You're gonna lose," said Tarn. 

Overlord pushed the hand away. "Try not to go crying to Lord Megatron when I humiliate you in front of everyone."

They glared at each other, and then each shoved at the other one in an attempt to get out the door first.

 

Starscream's voice rang out in the corridor after the meeting. "Overlord, wait."

Overlord turned around with a wicked grin. "Ah, Starscream. Thanks for taking the bet back there. Your faith in me is truly touching."

"We need to talk."

"About?"

Starscream looked around. "Not here." 

He motioned for Overlord to follow into an empty hallway. When he was sure they were alone, Starscream threw his hands in the air and twitched his wings.

"I can't take this. I cannot deal with him."

"Who?"

"Tarn," shrieked Starscream. "He's only been here one night and already he's at Megatron's heels constantly. Knocking on his door. Calling him every hour. Megatron can't get a moment's peace."

Overlord knew why Starscream hated this, but he wanted to make the Seeker say it. "And why does this concern you, Starscream? He's not stalking _you_."

Starscream looked at the floor. "Well....with Tarn around constantly, Megatron and I can't get any...alone time. You know, to discuss military tactics."

"Military tactics. Of course. So what do you wish me to do about this?"

"Keep him busy. You don't have to spend all your time with him, just a few cycles here and there. Keep him occupied during the times when Megatron and I are both off duty."

Overlord groaned. More time with Tarn? "Sorry, Starscream, but I already have the misfortune of sharing a room with him. I'm not spending any more excruciating time with Tarn just so you can get laid."

An excited gleam burst into Starscream's optics. "Well then, maybe we can work something out. You know Sixshot is leaving for a mission in a few cycles, yes? Once he leaves, Black Shadow will be in their room alone."

"Oh really?"

"Really. If you were to win that contest, I could suggest to Megatron that you get the single room as a reward. If we had to move someone else in there at some point, at least you still wouldn't be roommates with Tarn."

"And you think Megatron would listen to you?"

Starscream ran a hand over his cockpit. "Trust me, I can be _very_ persuasive when it comes to Lord Megatron."

Overlord grimaced. That was more than he needed to know.

"Just win the contest." Starscream poked a finger into Overlord's chest. "I'll get you a single room, and you promise to take Tarn off our hands every now and then."

A new sliver of appreciation rose in Overlord for Starscream. He grabbed the Seeker's finger and started applying pressure. "I can beat my brother. Have no doubt of that."

The plating on Starscream's hand buckled. He didn't even wince. "It's not just a matter of beating your brother. Megatron has to think that you _deserve_ to beat him."

Starscream had a point. Being better than Tarn was easy. Megatron thinking so was another matter. But Overlord loved a challenge. He released Starscream's finger. "Just watch and enjoy yourself, Starscream. This is going to be fun."

Starscream smiled. "Good. We have a deal then."


	2. Chapter 2

The next cycle, Overlord took his morning energon with his brothers and their leader in the common room attached to Megatron's quarters. Morning "family time" was more boring than Decepticon staff meetings. At least in a meeting there was a good chance that someone, probably Starscream, would get their aft handed to them by Megatron. 

Overlord sipped his energon and tried to ignore the irritating proximity messages that popped up every time he banged his knees into the ridiculously small table. Why couldn't Megatron install a table that fit all of them? And why did Sixshot always get the good chair? 

His brothers bickered around him. Tarn, typically, was trying to impress their creator with his latest stupid idea.

"Disloyal Decepticons are a bigger danger to the cause than the Autobots," said Tarn. "What if we created an organization to root out problems internally?"

"Whoaaaa..." Black Shadow's optics widened with a click. "You want to narc on your own people? That's fragged, Tarny."

Tarn started entering something on the datapad. "Only those who deserve it. The ones who need to be brought to justice. And don't call me that."

"And who's gonna lead this group? You?"

"Actually, yes." Tarn produced a datapad. "Look, I've already started. I've been keeping a list of all major transgressions within our ranks."

Overlord put down his cube. "You keep a list? That is the most pathetic thing I've ever heard."

"You're on it," said Tarn. He waved the datapad in front of Megatron's face. "See, Lord Megatron? See my list?"

"That's nice, Tarn." Megatron pushed the datapad away and went back to reading a report from Shockwave.

"This is one of your many problems, Tarn," said Overlord. "Your ambitions are so....lackluster."

"Whatever. What are your ambitions? Substandard torture and mnemosurgery?"

Megatron looked up from his report. "What was that?"

Overlord put on his most placating smile. "I was hoping to go to the Institute to study mnemosurgery."

"We've talked about this," said Megatron. "No. Absolutely not."

"But Shockwave said it was okay."

"I don't care what Shockwave said." Megatron rose as someone buzzed at his door. "The answer is no." He ushered the visitor, Soundwave, into the adjacent room.

"What's a kneemosurgeon?" asked Black Shadow. "Is that someone who works on patella joints?"

Overlord put his face in his hands. "You are such an idiot. I can't believe we came from the same creator."

For once Tarn was in agreement. "Cretin. It wouldn't kill you to read something beyond rules to gambling games, Black Shadow."

Black Shadow threw up his hands. "I was just asking! You guys are such spikes."

Sixshot nodded. "He _was_ just asking."

"Oh, now you're taking his side?" said Overlord. "What is _with_ you recently?"

"I'm not taking anyone's side. You're just an aft."

Insults started flying between the four of them, growing louder and more creative with each second. Just as Tarn started reading from his list to demonstrate all the ways in which his brothers sucked, Megatron stormed back into the room.

"Tarn, put that away. Black Shadow, stop antagonizing. Sixshot, mind your own business. And Overlord...." He jabbed a finger in Overlord's direction. "You are **not** studying mnemosurgery. That's final."

All four of them grumbled in unison. "Yes, Lord Megatron."

Megatron pointed to a colossal pile of old energon cubes overflowing in the solvent sink. "Now I want the four of you to shut up and do the dishes. Don't argue over whose they are. Just do them. Quietly."

Overlord, Tarn, and Black Shadow finished their cubes and moved to the sink. Sixshot looked on apprehensively.

The low whine of a fusion cannon coming online filled the room. "Is there a problem, Sixshot? I asked you to do something." 

"I get that, Megatron," said Sixshot. "It's just...when it comes to chores, I'm more of a dusting kind of bot." He indicated to the solvent sink. "You sure you want me over there doing what I do, how I do it? It's just, when I'm done with those dishes, they'll know it."

"Sixshot, if you don't get over there and help your brothers right now **I will permanently deactivate you.** " 

Sixshot hurried to the sink. "All right. All right. Just sayin'."

Thoughtful subroutines fired in Overlord’s processor as he washed the cubes. He cogitated on the contest. Mornings like these would be so much more tolerable if he didn't have to spend the nights with Tarn. _When_ , he corrected himself. _When I don't have to spend the nights with Tarn. After I win._

For the first time since yesterday's meeting, Overlord entertained the notion of losing. As much as he hated losing to anyone, a defeat at Tarn's hands would mean utter humiliation. He paused, motions slowing as he washed the cubes. His reputation would be ruined if he lost. Tarn would never let him live it down. 

Sixshot prodded him on the shoulder. "Are you done with that one? You've been washing the same cube for ten minutes now."

Overlord handed him the sparkling cube, still lost in thought. This wasn't really a contest judging who was a better interrogator, it was a contest judging who could impress Megatron. Not an easy task, as Starscream reminded him yesterday.

And to really impress Megatron, he'd have to do more than just torture. He'd have to create a work of art.

 

 

The three Autobot prisoners assigned to Overlord were smaller than he expected. Yet they stared at him with delicious defiance when he entered the interrogation room, chins jutting out and mouthplates twisted.

 _Excellent_. It was no fun when they were meek from the start. And fun was the goal of the day. Fun and a scream.

The interrogation room was sparse, containing no furnishings beyond a single silver table and one overhead light. Chains and bolts secured the prisoners to the wall. It was simple, with nothing to focus on but sterile metallic walls and one's own screams. 

Overlord looked at the datapad that held information on the captives. Their names were Hover, Ruckup, and Spitfire. _Typical stale Autobot names._ "Let's see…which one of you ranks the highest?" He pointed to the one on the right. "You."

The Autobot, Ruckup, glared at him. "Get slagged, you huge freak. Whatever you do to me, I'll never talk."

Laughter bubbled up in Overlord's vocalizer. "I'm not going to do anything to you. You get the pleasure of watching." 

Instead he moved to the one on the left, unlocking the chain from the wall and dragging the prisoner to the table. Overlord shackled him down again, spreading his arms and legs wide and securing him face up.

"Spitfire, is it?" said Overlord. "You've won the honor of being my plaything for the next few days." He ran his finger down Spitfire's face, delighted at the display of false stoicism. "Won't that be fun?"

"Go..go frag yourself," stammered Spitfire. "I'm not tellin' you anything."

Overlord leaned in and whispered into Spitfire's audio dial. "Guess what? I don't care!" 

Spitfire's optics darted to the tools that Overlord brought with him, three different sizes of chainsaws.

"Like those? I have many implements, but these are my favorite. Let me show you." He picked up the smallest chainsaw and went to work, cutting into the top layer of plating on the mech's arm, whistling a jaunty tune as metal squealed against metal. This part was always fun, the whimsy of the beginning, far scarier than pain.

His arm now cut open lengthwise, Spitfire whimpered on the table. Wires and internal components bulged through the wound, energon dripped from a nicked line.

Overlord started on the other arm. "See? This is what my brother doesn't understand. Finesse. Do you have a brother, Spitfire?"

Spitfire emitted a strangled gurgle.

"No, I imagine you don't. Let me tell you. It's quite.... _painful_."

Overlord lost himself for hours in the initial torture, delicately peeling apart the outer plating on his captive's arms while the other two Autobots watched in horror. He made sure to tweak every sensor node, jar every pain relay. 

It was so captivating, watching someone attempt to struggle while bound. Spitfire twitched and tried to shift, as though he could just slip away from the all-consuming agony. But he didn't scream.

Hover and Ruckup were making noise though, hurling curses and insults as they watched the dissection of their comrade.

"Now now. Don't be jealous."

A piercing shriek came from the next room, audible over the sound of the chainsaw. The wailing of static from a vocalizer, then silence.

Overlord's frame heated up so fast it triggered a warning message. The sound was coming from the interrogation room next to them. His brother's workroom. Tarn made someone make that beautiful sound. He tried to execute a command to ignore that particular stimulus. They just had different methods. If Tarn got a scream first, it didn't mean he was doing better. It didn't mean that Overlord was going to _lose_ or anything. 

Another shriek rang out from next door, and Overlord found himself working a little faster.

 

 

The next morning, Overlord and Tarn stalked down the corridors together on their way to the interrogation rooms. Other Decepticons practically threw themselves down stairways and waste chutes to avoid making eye contact with the brothers, mumbling either "heyguysnicetoseeyougottagobye" or "this is not happening".

Overlord felt the annoying microsecond processor lag that came with inadequate recharge. Courtesy of another blistering night listening to Tarn recite _Oh, Cybertron_. He hated to admit it, but Tarn was good at inflicting pain. His brother really had a way of grinding people down, if Overlord's own descent into roommate madness was anything to judge by. 

Despite his whirling, sluggish thoughts, Overlord kept a spring in his step and a smile on his face. Today was devoted entirely to the game. Today he was going to play until he got some real inspiration. He had to. As of right now, he had no truly creative torment vision.

Tarn was oblivious to Overlord's internal musings, instead rambling on about their previous conversation, which Cybertronians were the most attractive. For Tarn, this meant Soundwave.

"I mean, there's just something about him. His quiet, refined intelligence. His dedication to duty...."

"His complete lack of personality and the fact that his lip plates are welded to Megatron's aft," said Overlord. "No wonder you think he's hot."

"You have no taste."

Overlord grinned. "Do you know who I think is attractive? Fortress Maximus."

Tarn's intakes stalled. "What?! But, Overlord, he's....he's an _Autobot._ "

"Who cares? He's big, and he looks like he could take some serious abuse. Why just thinking about my fingers in those tank treads..."

"That's disgusting," said Tarn. "You're disgusting. This is going on my list."

"Ooooo..." Overlord waved his hands. "Your list. I'm quaking in my chassis."

The bickering stopped when they came upon Megatron and Starscream discussing something in the hallway outside the interrogation rooms. Starscream had his faceplates arranged into a sneer, while Megatron's hands clenched and unclenched like he was about to strangle the Seeker.

 _Well now, this is interesting_. Overlord tried to fix his receivers on the conversation, only to have the moment broken by Tarn.

"Lord Megatron," squealed Tarn. "Watch me." He pointed to the interrogation rooms. "Watch me in there."

Megatron ignored him, his sole focus on Starscream. He looked furious, reminiscent of the fiery, charismatic fighter who tore through the arena and galvanized an entire species.

Overlord shivered at the thought. He remembered how much he loved watching Megatron's fights. The huge mech was the only person who had ever bested him in the arena. Thinking about that, about Megatron's powerful fists and short temper, Overlord couldn't stop himself from engaging his vocalizer.

"Megatron," he said. "Do you think you'd have time to spar later?"

Tarn hung on Megatron's arm, pulling at his fingers. "Look. Lord Megatron. Watch me. Watch me torture this guy."

"Just a quick fight," said Overlord.

Tarn shoved at him. "Get your big lips out of here. I was talking to him first."

Overlord shoved back. Hard. 

"Lord Megatroooooon," whimpered Tarn. "He's hitting me."

Overlord grabbed Tarn's hand and smashed it into his symbol face. "No, you're hitting yourself. Why are you hitting yourself, Tarn?" He whacked Tarn with his own hand over and over. "Stop hitting yourself."

"ENOUGH," bellowed Megatron, shoving them both back. "Can't you two fools see I'm busy right now?"

He stormed off. Starscream followed after him, tossing the brothers a haughty look that eviscerated without words.

" _Primus_ , you suck," said Tarn, and disappeared into his torture chamber.

Overlord went into his own room, pleased to see that the Autobots had been left in there together as he requested. The two chained to the wall stared at him with pure hatred. The one on the table whimpered.

Overlord watched them for a long time, hoping for inspiration. He circled the table and looked at his captive from all angles. He didn't say anything, didn't make a move to touch anyone. He just watched as they grew more and more uncomfortable, frames vibrating with overclocked fear.

_Soft Autobots. This can't be more painful than watching Tarn try to get Megatron's attention._

"Oh." A thought occurred to Overlord, so delicious that his lips rounded into a jolly circle of delight. Watching. The secret, the statement, was all in who saw what, and thus who was motivated to reveal what.

The first building blocks of a beautiful vision assembled in his processor. He just needed to break the one on the table in the right way. Get him to scream. Without that first scream, the horror of the situation wouldn't be real enough for the other two.

Overlord picked up the chainsaw and continued toiling on his masterpiece.

 

 

"010111010zzrhg1101" 

Overlord’s systems buzzed with pleasure at the sound of Spitfire’s mangled nonsense. He walked his fingers up the Autobot's exposed chassis. It was a quiet sputter, not quite the shriek Overlord was looking for, but a pleasure nonetheless. "Ah, so close. Don't worry, we'll get there." 

Spitfire lay glitching and exposed, small arcs of electricity sparking from missing connections and broken capacitors. His wounds ran down every limb, meeting at the perfectly excised hole in the middle of his chest. He still possessed a shred of defiance, but his electricity field was starting to pulse with fear at every deft motion of Overlord's fingers. 

"Do you know what I'm doing now?" asked Overlord. "I'm touching the largest of the secondary safety valves for your T-cog. This is a delicate area, which is why you had all that armor protecting it." He gestured to the crumpled pieces scattered about the floor.

Overlord retracted his hand, a giddy charge coming over him as the safety valve came with it. He turned to the wall where Hover and Ruckup hung in their chains "This is an important part of your T-cog system. Best not to lose it." He tossed the safety switch away, reached into Spitfire's chassis, and pulled out another one.

Spitfire trembled, bound so tightly he was unable to do anything but thrash his head. 

Skillful fingers continued to slowly tear out safety valves. "You Autobots get such a poor education. Perhaps we need an anatomy lesson on Cybertronian transformation systems."

"Stop," Hover cried from the wall. "Please…please stop…"

Overlord leaned over Spitfire, bringing their faces inches from each other. "Do you know," Overlord whispered, a huge grin on his face. "Do you know what happens when someone removes _every single safety valve_ to your T-cog?"

He inched his fingers down Spitfire's body towards the exposed organ, taking his time, relishing the terror rolling off the little bot in waves. 

"Wait…wait.." Spitfire managed to online his vocalizer. "Stop…what are you gonna…."

"Oh, you'll see. You'll feel it too. Trust me."

"Wait…I'll…I'll talk….just wait…." Coolant tears rolled down Spitfire’s cheekplates.

Overlord pressed his free hand to Spitfire's lips. "Shhhh….I don't want to hear what you have to say." He gestured to Ruckup, Spitfire's commander. "I want to hear what _he_ has to say. And I don't think he's quite ready to say it yet."

"But…but…"

His hand closed over Spitfire’s T-cog, finding it smooth and warm. Just as he was about to drive the moment and really bring them both to a peak, the doors spiraled open. 

Much to Overlord’s annoyance, in sauntered Starscream.

"Overlord, I just came to see how you were…WHOA….." 

"I don't recall giving you permission to enter, Starscream." Overlord stood, grabbing a rag to wipe the energon off his hands.

Starscream gaped at the artfully arranged and partially disassembled Autobot on the table. The result of Overlord's growing vision. 

Overlord gestured to Spitfire like he was showing off a shiny new alt mode. "What do you think?"

"That's…wow…" Starscream shook his head. "Okay…." He grabbed Overlord and pulled him into the hall, shutting the door to the interrogation room behind them.

"What the frag is THAT?" screeched Starscream.

"I'm entertaining the two on the floor."

"I came to tell you," Starscream pitched his vocals low. "Tarn's doing really great in there. He's made them scream and cry and two are dead already. I think he even got one of them to talk. Tomorrow's the last day, and you've only touched one of them!"

A burst of static-laced anger flashed across Overlord's mind. "Not everything is some premature Seeker race to completion."

Starscream's face grew dark, red optics blazing in a manner reminiscent of their leader. "Don't screw this up, Overlord."

Overlord made a point to glare with the most serious expression he could muster, and then he burst into laughter. "Are you threatening me?" He chuckled. "That is so cute. _You_ threatening _me_." He caressed Starscream’s shoulder plating. "I'm starting to see why Megatron keeps you around."

Starscream stalked off, shaking his prissy wings. "I'm not the one whose reputation is on the line here."

"Your very nature means your reputation is always on the line, Starscream. Do try to keep up."

Overlord went back in the room. He rubbed his hands together, beaming at his captives. "Where were we? Oh yes…"

He dipped his hand into Spitfire's chest and stroked the T-cog. This was his favorite part, when the crescendo of pain reached its first dramatic climax. Up to now he'd taken his time, doled out distress in steady doses. Excruciating but predictable. The terror, the really fun part, came when agony and unpredictability intersected with imagination. He twisted his wrist and pushed, fast and without warning. 

Metal squealed as a result of the manipulations to Spitfire's T-cog, steam and energon and relay cables bursting forth. Spitfire shrieked, a long high wail of intense torment. The bots chained to the wall started screaming with him.

A pleasure symphony. Overlord smiled and kept working.


	3. Chapter 3

Overlord treaded through the halls of the _Despotic Reign_ on the morning of the last cycle of the contest. He took the long way to the interrogation rooms, wanting some time to mull over his strategy without Tarn's irritating vocalizer blasting in his ear. Last night had been horrific. Tarn had regaled him with tales of Megatron's arena days, as if Overlord hadn't fragging been there for it all.

 _One more day_. One more day and he could be free. After two cycles of teasing, today he was ready to set up the main event. To cap off his torture in a manner so shocking, the Autobots would have no choice other than to tell him everything they knew. Spill the information in their processors and beg for deactivation.

An excited tingle sparked across Overlord's frame. He had a plan now, and breaking his captives would be so, so sweet. Crossing the observation deck, he spotted Sixshot. His brother leaned against a bulkhead while looking out at the stars. 

"Sentimentality does not become you, my brother. What are you thinking about?"

Sixshot looked down at his hands. "Nothing. It's just….nothing."

"You're leaving at the end of the cycle, aren't you?"

"Yeah. Not soon enough."

"Rooming with Black Shadow that bad?"

Sixshot shook his head. "No, that part's fine. I just hate these lulls. The times in between battles. It just feels so….empty."

Overlord nodded. In his own way, he could understand. He never felt so good as when he was active, either crushing opponents in battle or tormenting a vanquished enemy. However unlike Sixshot, he could find something better to do with his time than mope around like a minibot.

"Destruction fills the void," said Overlord.

Sixshot whipped around to meet Overlord's optics, a molten fire behind them. "Yes. That's it exactly." Despite the intensity of his gaze, he seemed almost relieved. "Nobody gets that, not even Black Shadow. When you're built for something, when you really have a singular purpose, not fulfilling it can be painful."

Overlord put his hand over his mouth in mock horror. "Why, Sixshot! How very _functionalist_ of you. Better hope Megatron doesn't hear you talking like that."

Sixshot shoved him, one of the few bots in existence whose playful push could actually make Overlord take a step back. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Come on," said Overlord. "I can't watch you stand here looking so weak. Walk me to the interrogation rooms."

They walked together down the halls, making easy small talk about the best ways to commit species genocide. Decepticons scurried and cowered to get out of their way.

As they reached the last passageway, a Decepticon came racing around the corner and ran right into Sixshot. It was Dirge, and he flew back from hitting Sixshot like he crashed into a solid titanium wall. He scrambled backwards, arms and legs whirling madly.

"S-S-Sixshot! Sorry….sorry, mech. I didn't…that was my fault. My bad. I didn't see you there." His frame quaked. "Not that you're not easy to see. I'm not saying you're small…."

A scoffing sound came from Sixshot's vocalizer. He leaned down to offer a hand to Dirge. 

Dirge didn't take it. Instead he hurled himself up and stumbled away, falling down one more time before he was on his heels for good. "Anyway, nice seein' you guys." He took off down the hallway at a full run.

Sixshot dropped his extended hand and watched the Seeker run away. "Do you ever miss it?"

"Miss what?" asked Overlord.

"Do you ever miss how people used to treat you? You know, before the Warriors Elite."

Overlord looked at Sixshot, surprised. It finally computed. The moping, the obsessive need for missions, the hanging out with those moronic Terrorcons. Sixshot was….lonely. Overlord considered teasing, but instead he stored the damaging tidbit in his processor and told Sixshot the truth.

"No. I don't miss it."

Sixshot opened his mouth to say something else when a deep, rich baritone echoed down the hall.

"Sixshot….Overloser….have you come to witness my grand victory?"

"Tarn," Overlord intoned, as though it filled him with repulsion to vocalize the name.

"Today's the last day. Ready to taste defeat?" 

A pang of jealousy raced through Overlord when he saw what Tarn carried. An endoscopic claw. "Where did you get that? I didn't know we had any of those on board."

Tarn slung the claw over his shoulder. "Wait, you know how to use something other than a chainsaw? I had no idea."

Overlord face cracked into a smile, although he wanted nothing more than to snatch the claw out of Tarn's hands and jam it down his brother's intake. "What I choose to use is a matter of taste. The results of the chainsaw speak for themselves." 

"I thought the chainsaw was just the only weapon unsophisticated enough for you to figure out."

"Tarn, I _transform_ into a weapon more sophisticated than you could ever hope to wield. More than one of them, in fact."

Sixshot put his hands over his audio dials and walked away. "You two imbeciles never stop." 

Both Overlord and Tarn ignored him, focused only on burning a hole into the other one with their optics.

"I hear you only tortured one bot so far," said Tarn. "You are so screwed."

"We'll see."

Tarn made a slow circle around Overlord. "I already obtained information from them that will please Lord Megatron. What do you have?"

"Besides a real face that doesn't look like a Decepticon freak show?"

"Oh right, like those lips are real. No wonder there's no ununtrium left in the universe, after covering those things." Tarn stopped in front of the door to Overlord's chamber, his hand hovering near the keypad.

Overlord stepped in front of him, blocking Tarn's path while he shook his finger admonishingly. "Tsk tsk, Tarn. No peeking. Remember the rules."

"You're going down, Overlord."

"In your recharge hallucinations, Tarn."

With that, they went into their respective rooms and slammed the doors. 

At the sight of Overlord, the two Autobots on the floor started mewling. Spitfire just gurgled, his mangled body a sick mockery of its former construction.

"Good morning, Autobots," said Overlord. "It's time to stop fragging around."

 

 

Overlord worked fast and brutal, a marked contrast to the methodical torture of the previous two days. He was relentless with the chainsaw, cutting and severing body parts as he ripped through plating and tore into nodes and wires. Happy little hums came from his vocalizer as Spitfire screamed and sobbed.

Then came the posing. Overlord forced his captive into a new position, tweaking the T-cog and moving limbs in unthinkable ways. He molded Spitfire into the perfect vision of pain, a broken body too damaged to vocalize the unspeakable agony that had become his whole world.

The entire time he worked, Overlord spoke to Hover and Ruckup. He gave them lecture after lecture on anatomy and how a Cybertronian processor interprets pain signals. Every so often, he looked at Spitfire with a wistful sadness, reminding them all that soon he'd need another plaything.

The flavor of the room took on a surreal quality, a desperate tone that twined Spitfire's brutalized agony with Hover and Ruckup's tangible panic. EM fields flared with emotions too raw to classify, too jumbled to define. 

Overlord was so caught up in his work that he didn't notice when Starscream came into the room until he heard the Seeker's garbled exclamation.

"HOLY PRIMUS!"

Overlord continued to tie knots in Spitfire's main energon line. _Doesn’t he ever do any real work?_ "What is it, Starscream? Can't you see I'm busy?"

Starscream's optics were huge, their normally keen edges rounded. "That's…that's…just….wow….I knew you were disturbed, Overlord, but I had no idea."

"Do you like it? I'm thinking of calling it: 'Autobot: Disassembled', or maybe 'Twisted Turns of the T-cog'."

Starscream took in the sight before him, shaking his head. "This is all just a game to you, isn't it?"

"On the contrary, Starscream. I'm taking the opportunity to move away from Tarn very seriously."

"Not just that. This whole…thing." He indicated to the pile of Autobot on the table. "Torture. Interrogation. You don't even care."

Overlord lifted his head, grinning when energon from Spitfire's punctured fuel tank splashed onto the table. "Well, it _is_ fun."

"Megatron doesn't think so, you know. He thinks that you're interested in more than just killing."

"Is that so?" Overlord realized he'd worked himself into a corner. He couldn't keep manipulating Spitfire into the position he wanted while the bot's foot was in the way. Nonplussed, he tore it off at the second joint. Spitfire's low moan filled the room when his foot came off easily in Overlord's hand.

"It is, and you know what? I'm not fooled by you either. Be warned, Overlord, when I take over for Megatron, I'll be ready when the Warriors Elite want to lead the Decepticons."

Overlord put down the foot and looked at Starscream like he had just sprouted a second set of wings. "Lead the Decepticons? Who says I want to do that?"

"Well, I mean…don't you?"

"No," said Overlord. He walked over to Starscream and slapped a massive hand on the Seeker's wing. "I don't. And I'm not fooled by _you_ either. The only one you fool is yourself. I see right through you."

Starscream tried to push Overlord's hand away, but it just clamped down harder. The Seeker shivered.

"Who executes more half-processed coups than you, and lives through them? Who tries to depose of their leader while simultaneously trying to get 'private time' with him? Tell me, Starscream, why do you always fail to overthrow Megatron, despite ample opportunities? I'll tell you why…"

"Stop," ground out Starscream as the plating on his wings began to bow. "Stop. Just stop psychoanalyzing me and stop….being good at it." He pouted and tried to twist in Overlord's grasp, his faceplates a mask of disgust.

Overlord released the wing and ran a finger down Starscream's helm. He couldn't decide which was the bigger victory, the dismay on Starscream's face or the aroused twitching of his wings. Then he shoved the Seeker away. "You're fragged in the processor too, you know. But I get it. You and Megatron. Makes perfect sense to me."

"You don't get anything. However," Starscream shifted his eyes to the floor. "You're smarter than your brothers. I'll give you that."

"Flattery will get your everywhere, my confused Seeker."

Starscream flounced out the door. "Just make sure you have something for Megatron tonight."

Overlord turned back to his captives. "Apologies. Some bots just don't understand their own motivations."

He set to work again, tearing and stitching and rearranging and tormenting. When he was finally finished, Overlord admired his creation. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

And all it took was one lusty grin in Ruckup's direction and the Autobot was sobbing. "I'll talk," he whimpered, hanging his head in shame. "Please….I'll talk…."


	4. Chapter 4

When the shift was over, Overlord gathered his datapads and took one last, loving look around the interrogation room. A monument to misery. Yet there was a strange, uncomfortable whirling deep in his Spark. _No way Tarn could have come up with something better than this._

He arranged a jovial look on his faceplates as he exited the room, wrapping himself in an EM field that radiated a casual confidence. Hopefully Megatron wouldn't notice an errant pulse of any other emotion.

Tarn and Shockwave waited in the hall for him. Other Decepticons had started to gather too, but they milled about at the other end of the corridor. It seemed nobody wanted to be the first to go stand near the contestants. Overlord smiled and waved at them, giggling when they stepped back, horrified. As if his friendly fingers could reach out and disassemble them at any moment.

Shockwave fiddled with an access panel on the wall, overriding the security that locked the viewing screens to the interrogation rooms. With a remote command, a piece of the wall between the room and the hallway would retract, revealing a one way mirror that would allow everyone to see inside.

"You're gonna loooooose," sang Tarn. 

"I wouldn't be so confident, you obsequious chassis polisher."

Tarn laughed, so excited that he transformed right there in the hallway. He then changed back, only to transform again.

Shockwave knocked him on the side. "Tarn, stop transforming so much. You will burn out your T-cog and your features will freeze that way."

Tarn changed back. "Sorry, Shockwave."

More and more Decepticons started to filter in, until the hall was crowded and the whispers became outright murmurs of curiosity. Finally Megatron showed up with Starscream and Soundwave. Mechs parted before him, creating an easy path for him to reach his creations.

Tarn bounced on his heels, much to Overlord's disgust. Then he realized that he was doing it too. He stopped, looking around to make sure no one noticed.

"My Decepticons," Megatron began, "today we see the results of-"

Two more mechs pushed through the crowd, making enough noise to interrupt Megatron. 

"Did we miss it? Tell me we didn't miss it," said Black Shadow. When he saw Megatron's furious face, he shrank behind his brother. "Sorry, sorry, Megatron. You were saying?"

"As I was _saying_ ," growled Megatron, fixing Black Shadow with a glare that made even a super warrior tremble. "Today we see the results of the interrogation contest between Overlord and Tarn." He spread his palms wide, getting that maniacally happy look he sported whenever he was about to order the troops into battle. "I'm sure the rest of you are as curious as I am. Shockwave?"

Shockwave wasted no time in raising the barrier to Tarn's room. A whisper of shock and awe went through the Decepticons. Some grimaced, others had to look away. The majority nodded in revolted approval.

Tarn's room looked like an energon processing plant had exploded. The pink, life-giving liquid painted the walls, splattering all the way to the ceiling. The three Autobots lay in a mangled heap in various places on the floor. They were missing limbs, faces frozen in terror as wires sparked everywhere.

Overlord scowled, his motor churning faster. While he would never admit it out loud, it was pretty gruesome. Tarn must have had a lot of fun in there. He clenched his hands behind his back. _No way. No way this is better. Right?_

Megatron nodded. "Not bad, Tarn. They must have suffered exquisitely, as enemies of the Decepticons should."

Tarn bowed. "Thank you, my Lord. They begged for death."

"What did you learn?"

Tarn handed Megatron the datapad with his discovered information. "Mainly Autobot troop maneuvers and battalion reorganization. Some of it we already knew, most of it we didn't. The Autobots are planning on sending the Wreckers to our penal colony near Charon. We didn't know that, Lord Megatron."

"You've served the Decepticons well, Tarn."

Tarn practically threw himself at Megatron's pedes. "Oh thank you, Lord Megatron. It has been my honor."

Overlord looked at Sixshot and pretended to gag.

"Overlord," boomed Megatron. "I am interested to see what you've done."

Time stopped in the hallway of the _Despotic Reign_. An eager silence descended. Everyone leaned forward, curious, even Megatron. EM fields flared with interest. Tarn vibrated so hard that his tires started squeaking. 

Overlord found himself unable to move, unable to ventilate. Soon would reveal his glorious success, or humiliating defeat. Seconds ticked by as he clenched his hands behind his back so hard he saw pressure warnings pop across his vision.

After a protracted eternity, Shockwave finally raised the barrier to Overlord's room. A collective hitching of intakes went through the crowd. For a few long moments, the only sounds in the packed hall were fans whirring and vents shuttering. Finally, the corridor exploded in a frenzy of shocked chatter. 

"Oh my fragging Primus," whispered Ramjet as he edged away from his spot near the viewing mirror. 

"That's….that's somethin' else," said Swindle, looking about as close to malfunctioning as Overlord had ever seen. "You don't see that….ever."

"How is that possible?" asked Mixmaster, somewhere between admiration and repulsion.

Thundercracker's face arranged itself into a frown of outrage. Long Haul kept tipping his head this way and that, like he was trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The noise in the hall grew louder and louder.

"Awesome!" said Black Shadow.

Overlord watched Megatron. For once their leader had nothing to say. He just stared at the scene with his mouth hanging open. _How do you like that, Mighty Megatron?_

In the middle of the table lay the Autobot Spitfire, now more of a parody than a real Cybertronian. Over the course of the three cycles, Overlord had turned him inside out. Literally. The armor on his arms, legs, and chassis had been delicately cut into and moved aside. All flexible internal components, from wires to cords to information relays, were now visible and wrapped around the mangled armor. Instead of Cybertronian organs housed inside a metal body, Spitfire now possessed a twisted metal body with his internal parts wrapped around the outside of it.

Overlord had also posed Spitfire in a severe position, with his frame bent backwards until it formed a half circle. Spitfire's legs and arms were tied together with his own fuel lines, front facing the ceiling while his face pressed into the table. The inside of his body was on display, capacitors and rotor wheels visible.

Yet the worst part, the part that was no doubt causing Dirge to back away with his head in his hands, was that Overlord had put Spitfire into a state of half-transformation. Vehicle pieces stuck out from the body at odd angles. A headlight was halfway up his chest; a door was partially detached from his shoulder. The section of his body that should have been the top of his legs was half a tire. 

It looked like a mutilated vehicle crashed into a deformed, inside out robot. It was unthinkable.

Ruckup and Hover were huddled in the corner, not a scratch on them. They curled in on themselves, unable to lift their eyes and look at their butchered comrade.

Megatron smiled. A wicked leer arranged from one side of his faceplates to the other. "Inspiring."

Overlord's motor stalled. His tanks roiled with excitement. Well, excitement and mortification. Why was he having such an uncontrolled physical response to Megatron's approval? _It must have something to do with the Warrior's Elite programming they burdened me with._

"What did you learn?"

Overlord handed Megatron the datapad with the information from Ruckup. "These are plans for something called a Culpability Drive, a judgment machine created to calculate guilt."

"What?" Starscream snatched the datapad out of Megatron's hands, somehow managing to do so without ending up a smoking crater on the floor. His fingers started to tremble. "This is huge. Megatron, this is _huge_."

A voice came from the crowd. Possibly Bonecrusher. "So what?"

"So what? Idiot. Do you know what this means?" Starscream looked into Megatron's face and smiled. "Who creates something like this to calculate the guilt of a sworn enemy?"

Megatron smiled back, looking at Starscream with something akin to murderous affection. "Nobody."

"This isn't for us," said Starscream. "It's for _them_. The Autobots must be planning to put some of their own people on trial."

Megatron turned to Overlord. "You learned all this from the one on the table?"

Actually, he had learned much more than that, he just wasn't planning on sharing all of it with Megatron. Overlord pointed to Ruckup. "No. I learned it from him. He told me everything. And I didn't even _touch_ him."

A pained bleat of static came from the table. Spitfire's vocalizer came online just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Please," he whispered. "Please…..kill….me…"

"He's still alive!?!" shrieked Starscream.

"Kill…me…"

Black Shadow walked up to Starscream and slapped five hundred Shanix in his hand. "Take it. You win. I…got nothin'. Just take it."

Most of the Decepticons started swearing and backing away. Needlenose spun around and vomited energon in the corner. Skywarp yelped and jumped into Thundercracker's arms. Thundercracker tapped his helm. "What was that, Starscream?" He acted like he was receiving an internal comm, even though Starscream was in the hall with him. "Yeah, okay. We…um…gotta go. Later." With a *VOP* both he and Skywarp disappeared.

"No way," said Hook, storming into the room. "No way I'm really seeing this." He looked closer at the malformed body. "That's just…that's just a conscious pile of parts."

Bombshell looked on, vibrating with a flurry of confused emotions. "Sickest thing I've ever seen. Masterpiece."

Disappointing but not unexpected, Shockwave's energy signature betrayed no emotion. Although Soundwave's shiver and sidelong glance were certainly pleasurable. Overlord realized he was bouncing on his heels again, unable to bring himself to stop.

One synthesized growl from Megatron was all it took to silence the room. "You've both served the cause. Yet there is one clear victor." Never one prone to sappy speeches with his creations, he simply nodded to Overlord. "Congratulations."

A dark thrill sizzled through Overlord. "My pleasure, Lord Megatron." 

The pleasure was in the ferocity in Megatron's gaze, focused solely on _him_. Before he could stop himself, Overlord was executing the command to spit out the words, "Perhaps a sparring match later?"

"Yes," said Megatron. "Tomorrow. After the first shift ends."

Tarn was stammering. "But…but…"

"Tarn," warned Megatron. "Take your loss like a Decepticon or go to your room. Everyone else, back to your stations. The fun is over. We have a galaxy to dominate!"

"What about them?" asked Shockwave, pointing to Overlord's remaining Autobot prisoners.

Megatron motioned to Overlord. "They're yours. Keep them. Just clean up any mess you make with them."

In the ensuing crowd dispersement, Starscream tapped Overlord on the shoulder. "Remember our deal," he whispered.

Overlord grinned. "I intend to start keeping my half of it right now." He crossed the space between himself and Tarn in two giant strides, pulling his brother off of their leader. 

"Tarn. Tarn." Overlord slapped his hand on his leg, laughing. "Tarn, you've got to see this. Heh…come see this."

He dragged his brother into the torture room, leaving the mirror up in case anyone else wanted to watch. 

Tarn leaned against the table, unaffected by Spitfire's disfigured gurgling behind him. 

Overlord unchained both Autobots and clapped his hands together with a smile. "By now," he said, "I'm sure you realize that you're both going to die. After all my hospitality, the least you could do is entertain my brother before you go. I want you two to play one final game for us. If you agree to play, the reward is a painless death. If you don't agree, well…." Overlord gestured to Spitfire. "Let's just say I have a lot of free time coming up."

The two Autobots stared horrified at Spitfire, then each other.

Overlord giggled. "Now….and don't make us wait… _fight to the death._ "

Tarn and Overlord watched as their captives leapt at each other, each trying to tear the other apart. Allies resorting to barbarism out of terror and desperation. It was like the arena, only so, so much better.

Leaning his arm on Tarn's shoulder, Overlord asked, "How's that?"

"Yeah," said Tarn, hanging his head in defeat as they watched the Autobots fight. "That's pretty good."

 

 

Later that evening, Overlord walked through the halls of the _Despotic Reign_. He relished in his victory, flagging memory files for his “Best of Beating Tarn” list. The disappointment in Tarn's EM field, Megatron's reaction. It was all so delicious. And that he trounced Tarn so publicly. _Sweet._

As he neared the common area, he passed the brother that he hated the least.

"Congratulations on being really fragged up," said Sixshot.

"It was impressive, wasn't it? Are you leaving?"

"Yeah. Right now."

"Do try to have a little fun out there, Sixshot."

"Listen, Overlord, you might want to go a little easier than usual on Tarn. He's gonna take this hard."

"Well you might want to stop hanging out with Black Shadow. You always were a terrible judge of character."

"Black Shadow isn't really so bad," said Sixshot.

Overlord pursed his lips. "Black Shadow would sell you out for money."

"Whatever. So long, loser."

"Later, slag eater."

Overlord watched Sixshot walk away, distracted when an internal comm from Megatron pinged in his processor. 

_Overlord._

_Yes?_

_Pack your things. As a reward for your service, I am assigning you a single room. You're switching with Black Shadow. See that it's done before your next shift._

_Yes, Lord Megatron._

Overlord ambled down the hall, the smile on his pouty lips striking fear into all those who saw him.


End file.
